The Fang of Siberia
by Auburn Waves
Summary: FINAL CHAPTER UP. A cold spell means trouble for the good djinn as they struggle to keep the balance right, but Philippa is intent on finding a powerful ancient artifact with the help of John, Nimrod and Mr Groanin.
1. Chapter 1

**This is my first Children of the Lamp fanfic, it's set after the fifth book in the Christmas holidays, John and Philippa are 12 or 13. Read and enjoy. Also if you liked this, you might want to check out my other fanfics: THE BOWLER TWINS IN NARNIA, a Chronicles of Narnia fanfic and CITY OF DRAGONS, a Stravaganza fanfic.**

**Djinnternmail**

_Along time ago, at the very beginning of the djinn and the humans, at the very beginning of the world even, there was a tiger. His coat was white as snow and his eyes were black as coal. He possessed so much power that the neither the humans nor djinn could not escape him and they were dying. Slowly, but surely, one by one._

_Then came the djinn child with white hair and skin as pale as the tiger's and eyes as black as his. It had taken her parents and she had vowed to find it and kill it or else die trying. She journeyed across the world, through the oceans and across the grassy plains until finally, she came to the frozen wastelands in the North and the tiger was waiting for her._

_She could see it silhouetted against the black night sky and it could see her, so pale and fragile, but he didn't attack. Instead he spoke._

"_Good evening child," his voice echoed through the silence. "I have been waiting for you. You may not know it now, but you can be more powerful than you could ever have imagined. I can give you so much power." _

_The tiger breathed in and blew up to ten times his size so that he towered above the girl. And still she stood her ground and stared silently at him, she had nothing to lose, but he had everything._

"_Are you not afraid?" he asked. "Are you not tempted? Imagine a power over life and death, a power so great it could bring your parents back."_

_And she cringed, she didn't have anything to lose, but she had everything to gain, especially her parents. Could she really trust the tiger, he who killed all with no mercy and yet here he was bargaining with her on the ice with a harsh wind blowing in all directions. One word resounded in her mind as she stared._

"_Why."_

"_Are you afraid tiger?" she asked boldly, her voice high and distant._

"_And what would I have to be afraid of child?" he asked. "For I am too powerful for you, too powerful for anyone."_

_And although his voice was loud, it was almost as if he was trying more to reassure himself and than to intimidate her._

"_The higher the pride the harder the fall," she said back and then all of a sudden she shouted "Trigolamatoplanospheroten."_

_A stream of blue light came from her fingers and hit the tiger square in the chest returning it to it's original size. It looked worried._

"_You have crossed me child!" he screamed then charged towards her._

"_Trigolamatoplanospheroten," she shouted again and the blue light hit the tiger in the leg._

_He crippled falling to the ground, his mouth hitting the ice hard. One single white canine broke and skidded across the ice and halted at the child's feet. She picked it up and turned it over and over. The tiger looked up at her one more time before falling silent and still._

_He was dead._

_The child clasped the fang tightly, in it she knew was all the power in the world._

"What are you reading this time?" asked John coming into the room wearing a pair of black jeans and a blue t-shirt.

Philippa was lying on her purple duvet, book in hand, red hair toppling down on her blue top and a puzzled expression on her face. She didn't reply.

"Sis," he said.

"Huh?" she asked snapping out of her trance.

"What are you reading?" he asked again.

"Oh, Djinn folklore and legends," she replied.

"Anything good?" he inquired.

"Yeah, there are some really interesting stories in here," she told him. "Like this one with a girl and a tiger."

"Neat," said John.

Although he wasn't a big fan of books, he didn't want to get on the wrong side of his twin as she did like books a lot. Lately she had taken to reading them all the time, ever since they had come back from the Amazon.

"Are you okay?" he asked concerned.

"Yeah," she answered. "I'm fine."

"Kids," called their mum. "Dinner."

Philippa dropped her book on the bed and bounced up so that she was the same height as her brother, which John found annoying as Philippa had grown a good few inches over the holidays so that she was now just as tall as him.

"Let's go," she told him hurrying him out the door.

The Gaunt household was rather large and not to mention extremely tidy and quite glamorous really, but that was to be expected when your mum was none other then the hugely glamorous Layla Gaunt who could look stylish in pretty much she was wearing a striped suit with a white blouse.

Layla Gaunt hadn't always looked as she did then, she had had an accident where her body was turned to ash and her spirit escaped. She had then gone searching for a new body and had taken the body of their former house cleaner Mrs Trump because the house cleaner was no longer able to use it. For a while the kids and Mr Gaunt had been uneasy with it, but Layla had undergone plastic surgery in order to get herself back to the way she had been.

Dinner was always a proper occasion where the whole family sat at the table, dinner today was a roast as it was Sunday.

"Great!" exclaimed John. "Food!"

Philippa rolled her eyes at him, another thing she had taken to doing lately.

"You two really need a haircut," remarked their mother. "Look at you John, your hair is much too long and Philippa yours is scraggly. Don't you agree Monty?"

Monty was the new family pet, she was really Montana, a reporter who had once tried to assassinate the Gaunt twins by order of Mimi de Ghul. Monty purred in agreement.

Monty wasn't the only pet of the Gaunt family who had previously been human, Mr Gaunt's brothers had tried to kill him so Layla had turned them into dogs, but they had turned back and were much better people and most recently, she had turned Mr Gaunt's captives into various rare animals. Since then she had given up djinn power.

Oh yes, the Gaunt twins were djinn and so was their mother although their father was human.

They were half an hour into dinner when Mrs Gaunt started choking, the rest of the family were quite afraid until she coughed up a piece of paper.

"Djinnternmail," she muttered unfolding it. "I don't know why Nimrod didn't call."

She opened it up on the table and read it in her head.

"Oh," she said before folding it up and tucking it into her pocket.

"What did it say?" asked Philippa exchanging a look.

"It seems there's something wrong over in England," she replied.


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you to 1000GreenSun my first reviewer and also to organic101, the end of the sentence is "anything"**

**An Unusual Blizzard**

"Are you sure it'll reach them sir," asked Groanin.

"I'm pretty certain it will," replied Nimrod looking up from Yesterday's paper which Groanin had informed him was the last one on the shelf, there weren't any for today it would seem.

"It's really blowing a gale out there and the snow's coming down like mad!" exclaimed Groanin peering out of the window. "I say like mad!"

Nimrod's English manor had recently undergone a paint job and Groanin had been complaining about all the bright colours especially the yellow in the kitchen. Nimrod had offered in explanation that they needed some bright colours to keep their spirits up, but they seemed to have kept Groanin's down.

Now however he had found something new to complain about, it had been snowing for two days non stop which was very unusual where Nimrod lived, Groanin had only just been able to get to the shop at the end of the road for the paper and the snow was all over the front page "Snowstorm brings Britain to stand still," "Thousands of School Closures," "Stranded on the A3."

"A lot of negative news lately," remarked Nimrod. "Terrible."

"You're quite right," agreed Groanin. "Terrible. I hope the little kids are okay over in America."

"I'm sure we'll find out soon," said Nimrod.

And sure enough Nimrod began to choke. Groanin had seen this happen quite a lot lately, but it still put him on edge. Nimrod coughed up a neatly folded piece of paper, a typical Layla Gaunt trait.

He unfolded it, it read:

_Nimrod_

_I appreciate the information, but I fear we cannot come over right now as all the planes to England have been cancelled due to terrible weather conditions over the Atlantic Ocean._

_In answer to your question, no, we have not been hit by the cold spell over here yet, but it may only be a matter of time. I think it is highly possible that the Ifrit are responsible for this weather although they may have been helped by the other tribes of evil djinn._

_Do you really believe that Dybbuk is responsible, I know that he is evil, but is he that powerful, no I haven't discussed it with the twins, I don't think they want to talk about it really._

_Anyway try to find out, but stay safe_

_Layla_

"Well I suppose that we should go and check out the source of the blizzard," muttered Nimrod.

"You don't mean going out there do you?" asked Groanin and Nimrod nodded. "I've done some strange things in my life, some strange things I say, but going out there is madness sir. Are you sure that you wouldn't prefer to just stay in here in the warmth and wait for the snow to pass."

Nimrod gave his butler a stern look and Mr Groanin walked away muttering to himself about "the things he did for Nimrod."

The djinn then took out his notepad and scribbled out a note to Layla.

_Layla_

_Try a whirlwind, it just might work or a deplacée wish for the kids_

_Nimrod_

He popped it in his mouth, muttered his focus word and swallowed. Then he got himself a drink of tea and waited patiently for Groanin to return. His butler appeared dressed in a warm ski coat and handed Nimrod another which he slipped on.

As Nimrod closed the door, he turned of all the lights with a bit of magic.

"Are we taking the car sir?" inquired Groanin.

"No, it's much to icy," replied the djinn. "No, we'll be walking I think."

Groanin groaned softly to show his discontent at the idea.

They walked down the drive then out onto the road where there was no sign of a car insight, everybody seemed to have headed the warnings from the met. office. There were the odd pedestrians, but apart from that it seemed as if the world had hibernated. There were of course lights on in houses, but outside it was all quiet.

It reminded Nimrod of all those Christmas songs on the CD his niece and nephew had got him for Christmas the year before. He wondered if Philippa had received the book he'd sent her, "Djinn Folklore and Legends." And he wondered if John would ever read it.

"Sir?" asked Groanin. "Where exactly are we going?"

"To wherever it snows the worst," replied the djinn.

"But how can we be sure that the Ifrit are here?" Groanin wondered allowed.

"We can't," Nimrod answered him. "We're just going to take a look around."

The wind was picking up and the snow which had been gently falling to the ground began to blow in their faces stinging the and freezing them.

"Looks like a blizzard's coming," shouted Groanin above the wind.

"I think somebody doesn't want us outside," replied Nimrod equally as loud.

"Well then, let's get back inside before they become absolutely furious and decide to freeze or worse," said the Butler. "Or worse I say."

Just then Nimrod was thrown into the air by the strong wind which sent him soaring down the street as Groanin watched in terror. He was unable to do anything. Luckily Nimrod had the good fortune of quick thinking and grabbed a lamppost as he flew past it. The lamppost itself began to bend in the wind as if it was ready to give way at any minute.

Groanin ran towards Nimrod and offered his strong arm which Nimrod caught. Groanin hadn't always had a strong arm in fact for a long time he had been one armed that was until Philippa, John and Dybbuk had replaced it in Kathmandu.

He held onto the djinn firmly and waited for the blizzard to pass. It seemed like an aeon which is just over eleven days as any angel would know and so would John and Philippa.

When it had finally blown over Groanin spoke up.

"I suggest we go back inside," he offered.

"Yes," agreed Nimrod looking at the sky as if scanning it for something.

The two men walked back up to the English manor.

"That was an unusual blizzard!" exclaimed Groanin taking Nimrod's coat. "I say, that was an unusual blizzard."

"Quite right," Nimrod replied. "A very unusual blizzard."

---------

When Groanin returned, Nimrod was writing out a bunch of notes.

"What are you doing?" asked the butler.

"I'm calling a state of emergency for the good djinn tribes, I'm afraid that this cold spell could mean a significant change in the Homeostatis towards bad luck," explained Nimrod then added. "Especially with all these accidents happening."


	3. Chapter 3

**So this is the next chapter, it's a bit shorter than the others. It's back to the Gaunt household and they are trying whirlwinds. CatseyeLuna, when I said "the others head, I meant heard." Read and enjoy, maybe review.**

**Whirlwinds**

Layla Gaunt sat slightly worried at the desk in her bedroom; Mr Gaunt was still fast asleep.

The reason Mrs Gaunt was not asleep was because she had been woken by a piece of djinnternmail coming up her throat and she really wanted to know why Nimrod hadn't phoned for either piece. The reason she was worried was because she didn't really want to try either of Nimrod's suggestions to get over to England.

A whirlwind could mean a mini hurricane if it didn't work and because she had renounced magic it was likely that Philippa would be controlling it and Layla wasn't sure that she could. She didn't like the idea of it. Then there was the djinn spell Nimrod had suggested. A deplacée spell, but that meant whoever performed it would be under a binding for as long as took for them to get back to the Gaunt house. This would mean leaving one of the kids unarmed against evil magic.

So Layla Gaunt was in a dilemma, she didn't really want to choose either option as it could have disastrous consequences.

She had told the kids about the cold spell in England, but that was it really and now she had to tell them they might be able to go to see their uncle.

There was a mutter from the bed which grabbed her attention, Mr Gaunt rolled over and then fell silent once again. Mrs Gaunt turned back around, but then got up and walked over to the window where it was dark.

"Layla?" asked Mr Gaunt.

She whirled round.

"I thought you were asleep," she said.

"I was," he answered. "Until a minute or so ago. Close the window or you'll get cold, it is getting kind of cold out there and it would be good for you."

Mr Gaunt knew a lot more about djinn than he let onto the kids and the fact that djinn needed to keep warm because they were made of fire. It was one of many little things he knew about the djinn.

"Do you want to send the children to England?" she asked suddenly.

"I don't see why not," he replied. "But I want them back for Christmas."

"Of course," she smiled.

"Now come back to bed," he said rubbing his eyes. "It's much too late to be up."

------

John had that funny feeling where he was sure his mother was hiding something from him, but he didn't know what it was. It was a bit like curiosity, but also like unhappiness about his mother not telling him.

He couldn't sleep, a thing that seemed to be quite common among the djinn side of the Gaunt family tonight, but for various different reasons. John was also certain that Philippa was awake as he had the feeling in the back of his mind he had when she was awake.

He couldn't stand being in bed unable to fall asleep. So he got up and moved towards his PS3 which he turned on and onto mute. Then he sat playing on it for half an hour before he got bored and turned it off again.

Then he noticed a book on his chest of drawers he had overlooked for a while now and it was a book on djinn legends, not quite as thick as Philippa's, about half the size of hers actually. He picked it up and opened it which was a big step for someone who barely read anything most of the time.

The first page had the title, the next had the contents which John checked out. He decided to read the book in order.

-----

Philippa couldn't understand why John was so tired the next morning when he came into the kitchen, but she guessed it had something to do with him staying up the night before; she could tell when he was awake.

Breakfast was on the table, it was the usual cereal and orange juice.

Layla Gaunt came into the kitchen next and sat down on the opposite side of the breakfast bar. She looked slightly on edge which was very unlike the cool never worried Layla Gaunt although she had a terrible temper.

"What's up mum?" asked Philippa.

"Well...," she paused. "Would you two like to go to England in the run up to Christmas?"

"Yeah!" exclaimed John loudly standing up and both girls looked at him.

He went a bit red and sat down again in a sheepish manner.

"Okay," she smiled. "But I think we shall need to see if we can get a whirlwind started and of course controlled."

"But why?" asked Philippa. "Can't we just take a plane?"

"All flights to the United Kingdom are cancelled due to weather conditions over the Atlantic," replied Mrs Gaunt.

"We won't be able to control the whirlwind if they can't control a plane will we?" inquired Philippa finishing the last of her cereal.

"Whirlwinds are much easy to control than a plane," she said.

And so it was that soon after they were finished with breakfast, Mrs Gaunt took them out onto the roof so that they could try create a whirlwind, without her help, only her guidance.

The first one didn't get high enough for them to get into and the second just dissolved after a minute or so which wasn't much use, but luckily the third one was completely controllable and solid.

"Right," said Layla Gaunt. "Take care and have fun. Be careful though."

"Bye mum," they chorused as they climbed onto Philippa's whirlwind.

She waved to them until they were out of sight.

"Well here we go," sighed Philippa looking back to see if she could still see her mother, but the clouds blocked her view.

"Yep!" grinned John. "Winter in England."


	4. Chapter 4

**Sorry I've been so long, I've had a lot of presentations to prepare. I hope you enjoy this chapter, whirlwinds, snow and of course...**

**Trampolines**

It was half way across the Atlantic that Philippa noticed that the temperature had dropped dramatically. She shivered slightly trying to regain complete control of the whirlwind. As you all know, djinn are creatures of fire and young djinn can have trouble controlling their powers or even using them in cold weather.

"John," she called shaking her brother awake.

"It wasn't me," he said suddenly sitting up.

"John," Philippa stifled a laugh. "I need your help with the whirlwind."

"What do you mean?" he asked. "Hey look it's snowing! Isn't that awesome!"

"No," she frowned. "We won't be able to control the whirlwind if it gets to cold and snow most certainly doesn't help. Get up!"

"You're right," he exclaimed. "I'd completely forgotten about that. Maybe if we do that djinn transfer thing."

"What?" asked Philippa, sometimes she had no idea what he was talking about.

"Like when Buck wanted to get his own back on that person," replied John and he saw Philippa's features tighten for a moment, but he couldn't have been sure.

"Alright, but that means we both have to concentrate for a long time," she said.

John jumped up and took Philippa's hand just as the whirlwind started to disperse. They could see through the wind to the snow outside now falling really thickly. They could also see the coastline of England not to far away.

"Concentrate John," shouted Philippa over the wind as if she knew his mind had been wondering. "Concentrate on keeping the whirlwind together not on seeing what's outside."

The whirlwind was speeding up, it was dropping out of the sky towards the rocks below, John stopped his train of thought to regain some height, but it didn't last long, they were still hurtling towards the ground, the rocks and the sea already long gone.

"Where are we?" asked John.

"Concentrate," shouted Philippa, barely audible as the icy wind whipped the sound away.

Once again they regained height but started just as soon hurtling towards the ground which became a forest then a lake then a grassy field, seconds after each other. Te twins were tired, they were at their powers' end as the whirlwind dispersed in mid air and they fell from the sky.

All the way to the ground John had been telling himself it was the end, in fact he had been shouting it out loud so that anyone near could hear him. The ground came towards him much faster than he would have liked. Had either of them had their powers, they would have no doubt stopped their fall, but neither of them had anything left because of the cold.

So you can imagine how surprised they both were to hit something and be flung back into the air. Philippa had had her eyes closed at the impact and only opened them when she was back in the air. Down below, under each of the twins was a tremendously tall trampoline with a smaller one next to it and a smaller one next to that, almost like a stairway.

Philippa was the trampolining captain at school and so was quite at home, John however looked like he was going to be sick. Philippa waved to him and let herself fall again, this time, there was only a few seconds that she was in the air then she was bouncing at a good height for a trampolinist, completely in control landing with her feet on the trampoline every time .

She then came to a stop and saw John sprawled over the trampoline.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

"Yeah," groaned John painfully standing up and looking over the edge. "Not more!"

"Just jump," said Philippa and jumped over the edge of the first one on to the next in demonstration.

John imitated her and soon they were both standing on a trampoline that poked just above the snow that covered the ground.

"How deep do you think it is?" asked John lifting his right foot towards it.

"I wouldn't do that," warned a familiar, warm and welcoming voice.

"Uncle Nimrod," they exclaimed turning round to see him walking towards them on a wooden path that ran between the two biggest trampolines.

"What a brilliant performance Philippa," he remarked smiling at them and beckoning them over. "Let's get you back inside to warm up and regain those djinn powers."

Gratefully the twins followed their Uncle down the path towards the back door of the house held open by a wrapped up Groanin.

"Hey there kids," he smiled happily as he saw them. "You didn't one half give me a right scare, I say a right scare."

"Hello Groanin," replied the twins smiling to themselves.

-------------

It was such a relief to get back into the warmth and both children felt their powers returning pretty fast. They were becoming much more powerful, well at least more powerful then they had been the previous winter.

"So?" asked John. "Some terrible weather you're having. Pretty scary too. It's almost magic, but then a djinn would want it to snow."

The boy shrugged and sat back in the armchair, Nimrod smiled to himself and wondered if either of his relatives had figured it out yet.

He had called a meeting of the djinn and the first were due to arrive any minute now, but given the current weather conditions, Nimrod wasn't entirely sure that they would arrive safely at his place. Unwillingly, pictures of frozen djinn floated into his mind, like the Terracotta Army but in ice. Djinn that were half way between the world of the dead and the world of the living, didn't he know someone in that state?

He let the thought slip out of his mind as Groanin brought in a tray of Typhoo tea and Garibaldi biscuits which had been his favourite for 25 years now, quit a long time really. In fact he could not remember exactly what biscuit had been his favourite before. This cold spell was causing him a loss of memory.

It was a fact that djinn had better memories than mortals, but only in good conditions, any memory cells could be lost in cold weather and this snow was terrible. It was almost five feet deep now and would have easily swallowed up his niece and nephew who thankfully had arrived safely.

He looked to where Philippa should have been sitting in a red velvet armchair by the fire; but there was no sign of her.

**---------**

**Yay! Cliffhanger! **

**Did you see that coming? Were sitting on the edge of your seat saying to yourself, I bet Philippa's not going to be there. Did you see her leave? Were you there?**

**Sorry, attack of Randomness.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Right disclaimer before I forget, I do not own Children of the Lamp, but any made up charactersa are mine as is the plot line.**

**Thank you to Spectrobemaster, interesting idea about the library, find out...**

**Misplaced**

Philippa walked down the corridor, had she seen this place before? Maybe, it was all really hazy and she couldn't quite remember. Was it a dream? But it felt so real, how could it be?

Then it started to come back to her, the walls, the ceiling, the familiar feel and the landscape that lay just beyond the window frames. Misty, ashen and gloomy trees was all she could see of the outside, but it wasn't that she was afraid of. As someone so rightly said, it is the things we can't see that we should be afraid of.

She dragged her gaze back to the corridor where she could see everything in the proximity. There in front of her was a little book she remembered so well. All her thought, all her fears were in that book and it looked just the same as she had left it.

"Some things never change do they," whispered a quiet voice in her ear.

-------------------

"What?" asked John.

"Philippa's disappeared," said Nimrod nervously.

"She's probably gone to the library or something," replied John. "Why are you so nervous?"

"You see that?" asked his Uncle pointing to the armchair that Philippa had been in.

"What?" inquired John turning his head on it's side half expecting his sister to reappear suddenly, but nothing happened.

"That light," pointed Nimrod.

Now that his Uncle had mentioned it, John began to realize that there was what looked like faint silver light, or maybe smoke in the form of a girl with long hair, it was the unmistakable shape of Philippa Gaunt.

"How is that possible?" asked John.

"It's an imprint of a lost soul," answered Nimrod beginning to lose his cool.

"You mean she's..." started John.

"No!" exclaimed Nimrod. "She's not dead."

The whole room seemed to lighten slightly at the remark and the atmosphere was not quite as tense as before.

"No," continued the older djinn. "She has simply been misplaced."

"What?" asked John and Nimrod knew he would have to explain as Layla seemed to have blacked out the children when it came to the various complicated spells a djinn could use.

Just then the door bell rang loud and clear.

"I'll get it," called Groanin.

----------------

"Do you regret what you have done?" asked Brother Frymn as he looked down upon his subject.

An English speaking boy with a tired face and haunted eyes.

He had turned up at the monastery a few months ago and had been taken in and made a brother although he did not like the rules on uniform.

He often got into trouble by accident and this time he had been absent from prayer the whole day and had not explained himself except for now at the hour of confession where he poured his sins out to Brother Frymn.

He wasn't a bad boy, just lost and seeking refuge in the holy houses of the lonely northern Scottish Isles where it was now snowing outside. The Brothers knew as always that it would be a cold winter.

----------------

**I know it's a short one, but I kept coming up with cliff hangers. Sorry.**

**I know what you're thinking. Who's at the door? Who's talking to Philippa? Who's Brother Frymn?**

**Guess!**


	6. Chapter 6

**I think he should never have disappeared so now they get him back, well almost.**

**Mr Rakshasas**

"Mr Rakshasas!" exclaimed Philippa turning round and giving her old friend a tight hug.

"Careful there Philippa," warned the djinn. "I'm not what I used to be."

She let go of him, a big smile covering her entire face. She was so happy to see him that she didn't notice the person behind him.

Mr Rakshasas smiled back and patted her gently on the back. He looked older than when she had last saw him with many more wrinkles, but he was not crippled with age yet.

"Why are you here?" asked Philippa. "I mean isn't this Ayesha's palace from when she was the Blue Djinn of Babylon."

"Well remembered," replied a woman stepping out of the shadows.

It was her grandmother Ayesha looking as powerful and threatening as ever. She wasn't any older than before and she still seemed beautiful despite her old age.

Philippa took a step back. She was still weary of her grandmother after she had kidnapped her and brought her to this place to harden her heart. It had been inescapable until John had bravely saved her by making the whole perilous journey.

But that had not been the end of their misery for their mother had then promised to be the Blue Djinn of Babylon. Her going away had led to their dad ageing. They had of course eventually fixed it, but Philippa's memories of her grandmother were that she was always the bad guy.

Then she remembered her grandmother was dead and turned to Mr Rakshasas with a look of utmost horror on her face.

"You're not..." she gulped. "You're not dead?"

"No child," he reassured her then added; "But I am not exactly alive either."

"What about me then?" asked Philippa touching her hands and arms as if trying to make sure she was still there.

"That would be my doing," said Ayesha. "I have brought you here because you need y help." Philippa snorted rudely. "Like it or not, I am the only person who knows how to stop the unprecedented power of Dybbuk Sachertorte."

Philippa looked to her friend and he nodded slowly.

"How?" asked Philippa.

"Do you know the story of the _Fang of Siberia_?" asked Ayesha and Philippa nodded. "Well the fang exists still and it is hidden somewhere in the world. I have a few maps and vague descriptions of it's whereabouts, but they are for your eyes only. Nobody else is allowed to see them. Understand?"

"Alright," agreed Philippa reluctantly after a moment or two of hesitation.

Ayesha produced a number of papers out of nowhere and showed the first one to her granddaughter, being careful not to damage it in anyway. It was a picture of a tooth that looked old and cracked.

"All djinn have photographic memories, but few actually know and they can't use them until they do," explained the woman changing the picture for a map and so on.

Finally she finished and cast a spell which sent Philippa into a deep sleep. In her hand Philippa still carried the little diary she'd kept at the palace. She didn't know it that wasn't all she was taking home just then.

----------

Brother Frymm had watched his Protegé sleeping for over four hours.

The boy was awake now, he had screamed out minutes before and Brother Frymm was worried about him. The boy didn't sleep very much. Everyday he lost a minute or so and deep circles were appearing under his eyes as evidence.

"Are you okay child?" asked the Brother.

The boy nodded, but said nothing.

He never said anything about his past and the Brother only knew what he did from the things muttered in the boy's sleep and they were names. He had written them down each time he heard a new one.

The name he said the most was something along the lines of _Tulip_ or _Fillis. _But all the names were mumbled and impossible to be certain of.

Brother Frymm handed the boy a bowl of water and watched him drink it all up. Then the boy handed it back before rolling over so his face could not be seen by the Brother. But Brother Frymm knew he was still awake.

----------

Groanin opened the door and a gust of cold icy air blew in freezing the hall slightly. He ad opened the door to find the last person he'd expected to see: Philippa Gaunt.

"I say!" he exclaimed. "I say. How on Earth did you get back out here miss?" he asked.

"I haven't the slightest idea,," she replied.

"I've found her Nimrod," called Groanin.

"I thought as much," he replied appearing at the door. "Better come in then."

"You had us worried for a minute there Phil," remarked Nimrod. "Now where have you been?"

"To the palace of Ayesha," she replied. "And I know how we can stop all this bad weather."

"How?" asked John suddenly appearing in the hallway aswell.

"There's this object or more like a tooth called the _Fang of Siberia_ and it is really powerful so we can use it to stop Dybbuk," she said quickly.

"I thought that was just a myth from your book," John looked puzzled.

"No wait," said Nimrod. "If Ayesha has told her then perhaps we should listen. After all, she was the Blue Djinn of Babylon and did have access to documents others never did. But we shall have to wait a while, I have called an emergency meeting of Djinn."

"I don't think they're coming," remarked Philippa glancing at the weather outside the window. "Only a mad djinn would travel in this weather."

Nimrod's expression faltered slightly. He had obviously been looking forwards to the meeting. After all, it wasn't often that the djinn council got together. In fact it was almost never and Nimrod had only ever been to two in his whole life.

"I think you're right Philippa," he sighed. "Now tell me, how are we supposed to actually get there? I mean do you have any maps or stories or anything?"

"We have the myths and legends book," she replied, not sure why she wasn't telling her uncle the truth about what she knew.

"Good," said Nimrod.

"And there's bound to be more in the library," she suggested at which John groaned and Groanin smiled at him.

"What are we waiting for then?" he asked. "I say what?"

They all hurried towards the library although for once, Philippa thought it was pointless. She didn't know why she was having a hard time telling the truth to some of the people she trusted most in the world.


	7. Chapter 7

**Next chapter...Read, review and I hope you all enjoy it. If there anything in the book that says the Gaunt twins don't get seasick then please tell me. Thank you.**

**The North Sea**

They weren't going by whirlwind because of the Gaunt twins' near fatal accident the previous day and they couldn't go by plane because there weren't any planes leaving the country in the current weather conditions. It was a very long drive to the port from where Nimrod lived. Luckily though, the blizzard was no longer blowing; it had calmed down and the roads were gritted and mostly thawed.

It was quite a silent ride as well seeing as Nimrod was focusing on the icy roads, Philippa was reading as much as she could find on the tooth and Groanin was...well, groaning; mostly about the cold. So John was left thinking to himself and staring out at the white landscapes the stretched as far as the eye could see. The snow was laid thinly on the ground in most places with the odd exception.

It looked as if the snow would hold out for the moment.

John was troubled by Philippa's revelation. It was Dybbuk, his once friend and fellow djinn who was causing this terrible weather. Now that he had his powers back of course. There was a tie when Dybbuk had run out of Djinn fire because he used it all up on cheap magic tricks. It was all Iblis' fault. Now though the old Ifrit could do no more harm as he and his son Rudyard were trapped inside Jade suits.

John didn't like the prospect of a boat trip as the sea sounded rough and the Gaunts were easily seasick. That was why they normally travelled by plane or even better whirlwind. Even cars were better than this.

On the boat Philippa was stuck inside a book on Djinn mythology and John wondered how reading could possibly make her seasick better, not worse. Then again it was Philippa Gaunt and she seemed to feel much better every timer she read a book. John always seemed to feel worse. That was the Gaunt twins for you.

So John decided to get up and have a look over the side. This was a bad idea for as he looked down at the cold grey water he felt dizzy and stumbled backwards before falling onto the spray covered deck. He could see a white snow cloud in the sky slowly getting closer as the air was slowly getting colder.

A feeling of dread welled up inside him and he wondered whether or not the boat would be caught in a snow storm. After all, these were no normal snowstorms.

John went back inside when the sheer coldness of the North Sea finally got to him. He was getting much stronger than he had been, he was getting older and more powerful as was Philippa. It was a sad feeling really; the fact that they would have to leave all their childhood innocence behind them and start to grow up.

He pushed the thought to the back of his mind and tried to strike up a conversation with Philippa.

"So," he started. "Anything good?"

"It's not a question of being good," she replied. "It's a question of being useful."

"Whatever," he muttered. "Still. Anything?"

"No," she sighed.

"Maybe you should stop reading now," he suggested. "Surely it's only making it worse."

"No! I'm feeling fine thank you very much," said Philippa defensively turning back to her book and ignoring her brother again.

Nimrod then returned with Groanin, they were laden with food to eat and stuff to drink as nobody had anything to eat for hours. John suddenly realised how hungry he was and picked up a packet of crisps and a chocolate bar as soon as the food was put on the table.

John attempted to scoff them really fast. He started on the chocolate bar and found that it was rock solid and as cold as ice. It was like it had decided to hang around in the Arctic for a few days not on a ferry across the North Sea.

"Argh!" he exclaimed at the cold.

Philippa giggled, his uncle and Groanin stifled a laugh.

"Ith not fubby," groaned John, his tongue still frozen.

He crossed his arms and tried to ignore them, but eventually he had to relent as they were really the only people on the boat and he couldn't really see himself reading a book for the rest of the journey.

John didn't last very long sitting on a chair and ended up lying on the floor by Philippa's feet. She decided to use him as a foot rest and claimed he was much better than the tables or even the other chairs. Of course John knew his sister was merely winding him up.

It was a long crossing and it was quite cold inside the boat despite the central heating. As they went further north, everyone decided to stay inside because outside was frozen and the deck was like a mini ice rink where continuous showers of spray had frozen as the touched the boat.

None of the djinn liked and r Groanin mumbled about terrible weather conditions until Philippa politely asked him to be quiet. John for one wouldn't have been as nice, the water and the cold had really got him down.

When they finally arrived in Estonia, John wasn't sure whether he'd rather stay on the boat or go out into the freezing snow covered land. At least they weren't walking. That was a small comfort, but he was still feeling downhearted about their trip.

He was in the same foul mood when they left the port and was wondering how long it would take Dybbuk to find them again. He was after all a very powerful djinn, probably the most powerful for his age.

No child should ever have such a terrible responsibility on their young shoulders.

None of the people in the car were aware of the fact that they carried a fifth passenger with the in the form of a girl's one time diary. A place where an injured soul could feed of emotions although they got rarer near the end. Nobody had any idea.

**-----------**

**Cliff hanger, sorry. I will mention you in the next chapter if you can guess who or what is in the book. Good luck.**


	8. Chapter 8

**Here we go, another chapter up. I hope everyone has been enjoying their holidays. Happy Easter even though it'll be over by the tie you read this.**

**Thank you Catseyeluna for reviewing, it's not that person though, but don't worry you're about to find out...**

**Stuck with a Siberian Tiger**

Nimrod's car was by no means made to take the harsh whether of the Russian landscape. It had been alright all through Estonia and then even as far as Moscow before anything went seriously wrong. It had started to sputter and cough like it was going to be sick. Nimrod had said that they should ignore it.

Then it got worse; it began to slow down as they faced fresh snow that got deeper and deeper as they travelled further east. It was soon up to the handles on the door. That wasn't the only problem though, it was getting remarkably cold inside the car and remarkably quickly. It was highly possible that the occupants of the car would freeze inside it seeing as it was more like a giant ice box than a car at that moment.

Nimrod finally decided it was time to abandon the vehicle and get them all safely into the warm.

"Hold my hands," he instructed.

Philippa was worried, if Nimrod thought he would need more power to do a spell then she wasn't sure what was going to happen to them. She held out her hand to her uncle who had turned round in his seat in order to take hers and John's.

John gave one hand to Nimrod and the other to Philippa to form a sort of ring if it could be called that. It was more like a triangle though.

"Are you going to put that book down?" asked John and his sister looked down at the hand she hand offered John.

She still had the book with her.

"Oh right!" she exclaimed and dropped it into her lap.

Nimrod muttered his focus word and the other two concentrated on giving him some of their power.

Suddenly there was a blinding flash of white light.

The next thing the twins knew they were standing in a warm helicopter high above the frozen Russian ground. The snow was far below them now.

"Are you sure that was a good idea?" asked Mr Groanin. "Sir what if we're hit by another blizzard? Last time was bad enough."

"Erm...guys," said John. "Is there supposed to be a Siberian tiger on board?"

"What?" asked the others in unison spinning round to look.

"Do not be afraid," it said and everyone recognised the voice although none of them could place. "It is I, Mr Rakshasas. I've come to help," the tiger looked towards the snow. "I figured you might need it."

John and Philippa both threw themselves onto the tiger. John was definitely more excited, this was obviously because he had not been at the hanging gardens with Alesha and Mr Rakshasas merely the day before.

"Easy," chuckled the tiger. "I am getting on you know."

"How did you get here?" asked Nimrod making his way through the children to give his old friend a hug. "And why are you a tiger."

"I sort of hid in Philippa's diary, a bit like you might hide in a bottle," he told them. "As for the tiger...Well, when you've studied the way of the djinn for as long as I have then you end up finding out that a djinn is strongest in the form of a tiger. Quite Simple facts. Oh yes, very simple facts indeed."

The others looked at each other, neither Nimrod nor the children knew any of this and Groanin certainly had no clue at all.

"So I hear we're going to look for the famed _Fang of Siberia_," he remarked. "That's alot of power if you ask me, but then I think we can handle it."

----------------

The boy woke with a scream, he had been talking in his sleep again and Brother Frymm could see the sweat dripping down his forehead. It was never nice.

"Here," said the Brother kindly holding out a bowl of water for the boy to drink.

Brother Frymm had taken to calling the boy Sonny although the other monks said they didn't know where he got the name from seeing as the boy never smiled and never laughed.

"It's alright sonny," Brother Frymm sighed. "You're fine. Nobody's going to hurt you."

Sonny had screamed something before he sat up, it had sounded something like tulip, but Brother Fry couldn't even begin to guess what he was talking about. The man looked upon his protégée whose behaviour had not improved. He wondered if he was getting through to him.

Lately there had been incidents with the other boys on the island where a big boy had ended up hanging from the roof of the chapel and nobody seemed to know how he got there. There had been others that seemed to have happened _as if by magic._

The other monks had been quick to put the blame on Sonny, but Brother Frymm had stood up for the boy.

"Brother?" asked Sonny. "Will you let me leave?"

"What?" asked Brother Frymm not entirely sure he had heard correctly. "Did you say you want to leave?"

"Yes," replied Sonny. "I want to leave..."

"Well..." started Brother Frymm.

"And I want you to come with me," interrupted Sonny.

"What?" asked Brother Frymm not quite believing what he was hearing. "This is my way of life, I can't just suddenly get up and go. I have no money."

"That's okay," said Sonny softly. "I have something better than money."

"And what is that?" inquired the Brother.

"A gift," answered the boy. "And I can get you money if you want it."

"Sonny I don't know..." hesitated Brother Frymm.

"Please," pleaded the boy.

"Alright, but what will I wear?"

"This," said Sonny pointing at the Brother.

The man looked down at what should have been his old clothes, but they were no longer. They were now a black pin-striped suit and black leather shoes. Sonny too had changed his modest clothes for a pair of jeans, a pair of trainers, a white hooded jacket and a black t-shirt with a white and gold tiger on.

"Now we can go," Sonny grinned for the first time since he had arrived on the island.


	9. Chapter 9

**Okay this is a big step in the story so watch... or rather read closely. **

**This is chapter nine in which less than one person looks extremely like a bee although some people have said it's a wasp...**

**Flying**

There are many colours of blue in the world and perhaps turquoise is the prettiest, but at that moment nobody was interested in Philippa's chipped nail varnish; she wasn't even interested herself. Everyone was much more interested in Philippa's idea. Philippa wasn't the boasting type although she did like to be better at everything whenever she was doing the same as John.

Just then Philippa had come up with a plan, the _Fang of Siberia _she guessed was probably located somewhere in the very north east of Siberia, possibly further north on an island in the arctic circle. To get there they would need a means of travel. The helicopter wasn't ideal even though it was extra strong and reinforced by djinn magic. It was also very noticeable and there was one thing they most certainly didn't want; to be found by the now turned evil Dybbuk.

"So I have this map," said Philippa pulling out one of many pieces of paper Ayesha had given her during their last encounter. "I have compared it to a map of nowadays Russia and also Asia just to make sure. The Fang was last seen at latitude..."

Philippa finished explaining her theory of how the Fang had ended up in a remote island in the Arctic circle very near to the north pole. The fact that it was winter meant that there should be ice stretching along way out from the north of Russia.

She sounded a bit unsure as she said it because she knew the effects of Global warming; every year the ice froze later and melted earlier. Philippa sighed sadly as she thought of it. The warming meant bad things for the djinn, especially the good ones. If the planet got hotter then the humans became less fortunate. The impact on the homeostasis would be huge. Some of the good djinn suspected the bad, but global warming would be disastrous for all djinn.

Perhaps this bout of snow wasn't so bad if it helped the planet

"So you think we could enlist the help of the mythical spirit dragon?" asked John with a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

"Well if the Fang is real then I don't see why the dragon shouldn't" shrugged Philippa. "It's worth a try. Anyway, I don't see you offering any thing else."

John was stumped and fell silent.

The helicopter swayed slightly as a strong wind attempted to blow them off course. The map alost fell off the table, but Mr Rakshasas the tiger caught it just in time. Everybody slid ten or twenty centimetres to the left of the helicopter and unfortunately for John he had been standing near the wall. He slammed into it and groaned loudly as he fell to the floor.

The turbulence was soon over and Mr Groanin came to help John. He had a big red mark on the side of his face that would definitely become a bruise.

Mr Groanin's arm was extremely strong and it was very useful for lifting things and people, like John. He needed to just rest for a while the helicopter homed in on a small Russian settlement in Siberia. They had been travelling for days and days now. Russia was such a huge country.

"We'll set ourselves down and ask for hospitality," suggested Nimrod.

He brought the helicopter to rest a little while away from the village as many people who lived in isolated regions were superstitious, many people who didn't were too. The small party climbed out their helicopter that had landed in the thick snow. It was very hard moving toward the village, but it got easier as they got nearer. The land or snow was well trodden.

It was that time of year again that she dreaded. Everyone was looking forward to Christmas and they were all running around shops and markets in search of presents. For Faustina though, it meant that she would be returning to that place she hated.

As she arrived on the bank she looked around to see the unwanted wishes that lay in wait as if to taunt her. Despite all the good djinn did; the homeostasis always seemed to sway slightly in favour of bad luck.

Faustina made her way up to the house which now looked like the Sachertorte's English home. She had changed it from what it had once been even though she barely saw it.

Going to this place was so that her heart was hardened, but she did not want to be indifferent to everything and put into place justice. She had, after extensive studying of the Baghdad rules, discovered that only her body had to remain. Her spirit was free to leave at any time.

Last time she had chosen a bee and it had seemed like a terrible mistake at the time, but lately she had come to like it. So for reasons nobody could possibly understand she decided to let her spirit enter the mind and body of a bee.

As soon as her spirit had arrived back in the real world of course.

The bee was Faustina and Faustina was the bee. It worked as far as both were concerned although it did limit Faustina's ability to communicate. There was the fact that she could now fly effortlessly. And she knew where she was going, ever since she had received that message from Layla Gaunt...

**I know it's not extremely long, but I didn't want to keep you waiting any longer. **


	10. Chapter 10

**I need to say thank you to everyone who read and everyone who reviewed.**

**So thank you to...Catseyeluna, Masya, xXRichieXx, Trans-Siberian Fan 12, Hanban915, organic101 and 1000GreenSun. This chapter is for you all. ;)**

**The Village**

Passport control was easy to get through with the real fake passports that Sonny had magicked. Brother Frymm was now Mr Charles O'Reily and Sonny was Sonny O'Reily; his nephew. This was not the most believable of stories as Sonny looked nothing like Brother Frymm, but passport control wasn't famed for looking too closely at the people.

So the two of them passed through and headed onto the plane that was ready to take off despite the terrible weather. It had been a real stroke of luck although Brother Frymm suspected some kind of magic from Sonny.

All his life Frymm had been brought up in a world that said that there was no magic, there were no magic tricks; only science. Then when he had joined the monastery he was reinforced in his belief. Now though it seemed as if everything he thought he knew was wrong.

He looked at the boy sitting next to him in deep thought, perhaps this once he could truly feel like a child again.

"So here we are," sighed Frymm.

"Yes," agreed Sonny.

The plane took off, it was flying to the East.

A small bee flew east against the wind. It was a difficult task given that bees should technically not be able to fly at all, but that didn't seem to bother any of them at all.

This bee wasn't just any bee though, it was Faustina. And if anyone knew they could fly, it was her.

The village loomed up ahead like a white mountain in a sea of white snow that moved with the wind, like sand. It was picturesque from a distance, but looked as normal as any other village as the four djinn and Mr Groanin got closer and closer.

John was struggling against the cold in his condition and was being supported by the kindly butler who, very unlike himself, didn't moan.

The weather was getting worse and across the clear barren landscape you could see it snowing hard far, far away. It was closing in on them and there was no way the could outrun it. It was like a game where ultimately you would lose because your enemy was too well informed for you to beat them.

Philippa walked gracefully as always, but under her cool and calm facade was a heart that was slowly beginning to accept what had happened; it was breaking. She was Philippa though and her emotions never showed. Ever.

Being Philippa was a full time job, she couldn't let her emotions run away with her especially when the object of them was most likely trying to kill her and her friends.

She sighed.

"Come on," she called over the wind to the rest of her group as she trudged on through the snow that was getting thinner and more easy to move in with every step.

They entered the village shortly with the snow storm merely minutes from reaching them. At first it seemed like there was nobody about and that they would have to face the snowstorm alone. This option meant they were all likely to die within the hour.

Luckily a door opened and a young girl beckoned to them.

To exhausted and to cold to bother being cautious, the group made their way towards the hut they were being beckoned to from. All of them were shivering badly and John was looking worse than ever, they needed to get inside fast.

"Come," instructed the girl, her voice heavy with a Russian accent. "Sit and warm."

The group gladly did as she said and stepped out of the snow, wind and cold. It was nice and warm and snug inside the hut. You wouldn't know it was snowing outside if it weren't for the window in the room.

The girl then disappeared for a moment before returning to the room with a bowl of pink liquid.

"For boy," she explained pointing to John. "He ill."

Mr Groanin took the bowl and lifted John's head up, supporting it with his hand.

"Drink up John," he said. "We need you to be well."

John weakly opened his mouth and Mr Groanin poured the contents of the bowl into it. When John had drunk the entire amount of liquid he yawned.

"Sleep," he muttered and that's exactly what he did.

"In morning he better," said the girl. "I Tara."

"Hello," ventured Nimrod then introduced them all. "Are we allowed to sleep here tonight?"

"Yes," nodded Tara. "There be big storm, you not safe out there."

She pointed to the window where one could see that the storm had reached the first row of houses in the village, it would soon be upon them.

A battle was going on in Philippa's head as she tried to decide whether or not she should ask the girl Tara if she knew where the _Fang of Siberia_ was or whether she had heard of it at all. Finally she decided upon a less direct way of asking.

"So Tara, do you know any good legends?" inquired Philippa.

The girl looked rather puzzled.

"Stories?" tried Philippa.

"Ah yes," smiled Tara. "But yes I do. There was once a tiger..."

And so Tara recounted, in no uncertain terms the story of the Fang of Siberia and Philippa listened intently even though she had heard it before. Tara was on of those people who had a knack of telling a story in such a captivating way.

"I'm going to tell you a secret," said Tara and suddenly everyone was alert, except John who was still asleep. "There is a cave under the village, a huge cave. The people say it is haunted and noody has been down there in centuries. I think that the Fang is there. I show you in the morning."

The group nodded enthusiastically.

**I would like to tell you that Brother Frymm will now be referred to as Benjamin Frymm as we can no longer call him brother because he is not part of the monastery anymore.**


	11. Chapter 11

**Firstly I'd like to apologise for the lateness, I've had exams.**

**I don't think I've mentioned this before, but I'm writing a new fanfic called CATWALK**_**,a Cat Royal Adventure **_**fanfic. So if you like this one and any other fanfics of mine, you might like my latest. Oh and if you like cat royal I have a forum there.**

**Thanks to the people who reviewed the last chapter. It was much appreciated. This chapter has been really hard to write because I didn't have any ideas. Hope you all like it any way.**

**The Cave**

It was a long night, the wind howled around outside like a wolf. Just because there was a wind didn't mean that there weren't wolves. It was not the kind of place anyone one would like to be in for the night, but the group really didn't have much choice in the matter really.

The warm air of the hut swirled around Philippa's chest and the cold air from the window, her back. It was not comfortable at all. The cold sent shivers up her spine making the hairs on her neck stand on end. She didn't like it one bit.

She looked over at John, at least he was okay sandwiched between Nimrod and Mr Groanin. She sighed. He looked cosy and warm as opposed to her. For once he had got the better option. That had never really happened before. She sighed again.

She didn't notice it as she drifted off into an undisturbed deep and silent sleep.

Undisturbed that was until John woke her up the next morning with quite a fierce shake. He was looking much better with a grin on his face.

"Glad you're feeling better," she grumbled sitting up.

"Hmm," he agreed. "You should try it. Does wonders for one's good spirits."

"You don't say," remarked Philippa sarcastically.

"Calm down now Philippa and get some food and drink into you," said Nimrod. "You'll be feeling much better as well. We don't want you to be little miss grumpy all the time that we're in the cave. Speaking of which you'd better get up and have breakfast Philippa. We'll be leaving in a minute.

The weather outside was still bad, but not as bad as the night before and as the party trudged along, moving through the snow, nobody felt happy. The continuous cold and their lack of power had them at an all time low. Only their guide Tara knew where she was going. Philippa looked around. She was beginning to fell just a little bit nervous. Why did she get that feeling in her stomach. The hairs were sticking up on the back of her neck and it wasn't just from the cold.

"Little further," called Tara over the wind.

They had been the only ones out in the village, obviously everyone else had had the sense to stay indoors. Philippa looked around again. They weren't being followed, she would have seen anyone here. There was nowhere to hide for miles around.

Finally Philippa saw it. A cave.

Nothing more, nothing less and certainly nothing spectacular.

Why did she feel so disappointed? What exactly had she been expecting? Tara had said they were going to a cave and that is where she had brought them now.

"Come," Tara beckoned stepping inside.

The others followed her. They were grateful to get out of the harsh climate of the Tundra and into the cave. Despite it's wide entrance no wind came in and Philippa guessed it must be blowing from behind the cave, not in front.

"So this is it?" asked John disappointed.

"No, no," said Tara hastily, _too hastily _Philippa thought, but she brushed it aside. "We go further in, then we find tooth place."

"Then let us go at once," piped up Nimrod.

"I don't like caves," moaned Groanin. "I say, I don't like caves."

"You don't like caves do you," said John in mock sympathy.

Groanin sent him a warning look and neither John nor anyone in the cave fancied their chances against Mr Groanin's new arm in their state of reduced power and Groanin knew it. He smiled to himself.

Tara beckoned for them to follow her. They did like herded sheep. She led them further and further into the caves. Stalactites and stalagmites rose up and down creating a series of hourglass pillars. Some did not join and looked menacing with their needle tops and bottoms. Philippa was feeling even worse not to mention it was cold in the cave. It was colder now than outside.

"Come," Tara beckoned again.

Their guide weaved effortlessly through the cave. She had a certain ease and Philippa guessed Tara must've been there many times before. It was so easy to get lost in the cave with it's echoes and alcoves. Philippa had mapped it out in her mind just in case. She didn't want to get lost, they had, after all taking many turns on the way there.

She was beginning to feel very uneasy, there was something about this place that just wasn't right. Why did she get that feeling? The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end and a shiver ran down her back. Not from the cold.

"Can we go back?" she asked suddenly.

The group looked at her as if she was talking gibberish.

"Don't you want to find the tooth?" inquired Nimrod. "We can't turn back now that we've come all this way? It would a complete waste and we don't know how powerful Dybbuk really is. Do you really want to Philippa?"

She looked at the expectant faces of her friend and family, they didn't want to go back now and she doubted they would even leave if she wanted them to anyway. She couldn't win.

"No," she replied. "Your right...Let's just," she sighed. "Keep going."

They hadn't walked more than a step each when the earth began to rumble and the ground to shake. Chunks of rock started falling from the ceiling and everyone started screaming. There was no where to hide and the group ran around like lost sheep. All except Tara that was. Philippa stared at her through the tumbling dust.

Tara was laughing, a cruel, mirthless laugh. She was laughing at them.

A small rock hit Philippa hard on the head and she groaned sinking to her knees, the world began to spin. Another rock, bigger this time, fell on her shoulder knocking her to the ground. She could just about remember the others on the floor and the painful thud of more rocks on her head before everything went black.


	12. Chapter 12

**I hope everyone had a good holiday, I did. Sorry for the lateness, I was on holiday all summer. It's now time to pick up where we left off.**

**Waking Nightmare**

The world seemed blurry and the noise was harsh on her ears, but Philippa couldn't think much. All her mind said was OW, OW, OW. Her head was throbbing and the pain was unbearable. She felt like a million tonnes of rock had fallen on her head smashing it to pieces and she wasn't far off. The truth of the matter was that a great number of rocks had.

Her eyesight got slightly better and she could make out the colourful figures of two people, two familiar people through an open doorway. They were talking, but her ears refused to stop buzzing in order for her to listen to a word they were saying.

She then dosed off to sleep again, too tired to stay awake.

The time seemed to drift by in a blink off an eye and Philippa was so deeply caught in sleep that she had reached a state that many of us know. That of perfect unconsciousness.

But she was soon roused from her sleep by a rough hand, she didn't know whose as her eyes were still blurry. She was dragged to her feet like a ragdoll and frogmarched into a hall by the guard without even realising it. Her vision was clearing, there was someone on a chair looking down at her with an expression of utter contempt. The features began to come into focus and Philippa nearly fainted with the shock.

"Dybbuk," she gasped.

"Hello Philippa," he smiled cruelly. "It's so good of you to join us," he noticed her struggling against her guard. "Resistance is futile. You see that band around your wrist, that is ice cold, there is no way you can use your powers while wearing it and luckily for you. I have the only key."

Philippa got a sinking feeling in her stomach as she realised that all the cards were in Dybbuk's hand. The only question was how would he decide to play them.

She was escorted back to her room, her mind desperately attempting to find a solution, a way to escape. But even more pressing was the matter of the whereabouts of John, Nimrod, Mr Rakshasas and Groanin for they too had also been in the cave at the time. There was of course Tara who Philippa felt like beating the living daylight out of for her betrayal.

There was nothing she could do for the moment, she would have to bide her time carefully.

Help was at hand for Philippa in the form of a teenage boy whose given name was Sonny O'Reily. He and is so called father were on their way to where she was being kept. They made there way in the most unlikely of consequences.

After leaving the airport, the strangest thing befell our young Sonny. To start with, he was held back by customs because he had forgotten his suitcase. This would have been perfectly possible had he had a suitcase in the first place. Curiosity had got the better of him and he had decided to wait for it to be _returned_ to him.

Benjamin Frymm had of course gone along with him to collect it and the two of them didn't have to wait long. The suitcase that was brought out was an old one covered in stickers from all over the world including Japan, Egypt, China, Peru and Australia. It didn't look particularly conspicuous, just old and used.

Sonny decided it was better to open it outside, just in case. Benjamin had looked at him with a sudden expression of worry. He hadn't thought anything of it until then.

So they made there way out of the airport and to a secluded park where Sonny beckoned for his friend to sit on the bench with him.

"You don't think there's anything like a bomb in their do you?" he asked clearly worried.

"I don't think so," replied Sonny reassuringly. "Let's just wait and see yeah."

"Okay," said Frymm uneasily. "If you say so."

"I do say so," said Sonny.

With that he undid the clasps holding it shut and with a dramatic pause opened it. It was empty, but for two objects. The first being what looked like a ring and the second a folded piece of paper.

Sonny pulled them both out in order to examine them further.

He unfolded the piece of paper to reveal writing then proceeded to read it aloud to his friend.

"Dear Sonny, I hope you have accepted this gift I have made for you. You will find that it will take you to where you need to go to find yourself again. The ring will take you there at the command of _Imbocio_. Once you are there, you will need the command to leave. The following words will take you and many others to safety: _Calvinos_. Yours sincerely F.S."

"Well..." muttered Benjamin before both of them fell into a long silence.

It seemed to go on for ages as both of them considered the risks and the possibilities. The silence was finally broken by Benjamin swatting away a bee who had strayed too close to them.

"Silly bee," he sighed.

And again silence reigned.

"I think we should go," Sonny piped in.

"Are you sure, it's very irresponsible to just accept these kind of gifts you know," said Benjamin.

"You speak like you've been receiving magical gifts all your life," remarked Sonny with a small chuckle.

"Yeah well..." the man trailed off. "What about the _take you to safety part_. Doesn't that mean it's sending us into some kind of danger?"

"Yeah, but we'll always be able to get out with the ring," argued Sonny.

"Still," said Frymm.

"Pleeeeaaase," pleaded the boy.

Benjamin Frymm gave in.

"Oh alright if you insist."

"Yay!" exclaimed Sonny a little over enthusiastically. He checked himself. "I suppose we should get ready to go then. Can I wear the ring? Please."

"I think you're meant to," smiled Frymm. "It is addressed to you after all."

So Sonny slipped the ring onto his finger and firmly hooked his arm with Benjamin then took a deep breath and said the magic words.

"Imbocio!"

**So there you have it, another chapter and another character. The plot thickens...**


	13. Chapter 13

**Sorry for the wait, I 've had a lot to do.**

**Rescuers**

Philippa knew she had to find John, Nimrod and Groanin before she escaped, but the only question was: how? She sat in the cell with nothing to do and stared at the wall where the only door stood. Her mind was racing with her memory of the route she had taken when she was taken to see Dybbuk, surely there would be someone to guide her or give her directions if she dressed up as one of the guards.

Only that would mean she had to knock out a guard first. The only problem was, there wasn't one. It was her, the walls, the floor and the old bread. As she sat pondering, she noticed a set of keys on the walls outside; the final injustice.

"Uhhh!" she said frustrated.

That was when the man and the boy appeared out of nowhere.

They looked confused, lost and a little dizzy with it.

The boy turned round to face her and she gasped.

"Buck?"

The boy looked at her with his round eyes as if he was remembering something that had happened a long time ago. As if he was trying to piece together a puzzle where a lot of the pieces were missing.

"Oh my gosh!" exclaimed Philippa. "It is you!"

"What?" asked the man incredulously. "This isn't 'Buck'. This is Sonny. Isn't that right Sonny?"

"Yeah," agreed the boy. "I'm not 'Buck', I'm Sonny. I'm Sonny."

Philippa stared at him, he had sounded like he wasn't so sure, but now he looked resolute. She decided it was best not to argue with him yet; not if she wanted to get out of the cell any time soon. She needed them to get the keys for her.

"Sorry," she tried to sound embarrassed. "I thought you were...well I ..."

"Not to worry," smiled the man. "I'm Benjamin."

"Philippa."

"Now what are you doing behind those bars?"

About half an hour, two rats and countless keys later the door was open and Philippa was finally free to go and find her friends, but she had to take her two rescuers with her and she wanted to know as much as she could about 'Sonny' just to be on the safe side. If it was Buck then he had survived, if it wasn't then...

A tear formed in her eye, but she brushed it away without another thought; there was to be no crying in front of these lovely people. Not now, not ever.

She smiled politely at the other two.

"Right, er..." she started. "Let me explain everything. I'm looking for something, an object, but I haven't had the time to find it yet. I was kidnapped by these two really nasty people," she didn't mention that one of them looked incredibly like Sonny. "Who have locked me and my friends up here. The only problem is I don't know where my friends are so I'm going to need some help and a guard's costume. Who's up for it?"

The two rescuers looked doubtful for a moment, but then...

"We're in!" decided Sonny.

"Good," smiled Philippa despite the circumstances. "So er...we may need to...kind of...knock out a guard."

"Right you are," agreed Benjamin. "The only question is: where is a guard?"

Perhaps it was the cold hard wind of Siberia that blew Faustina off course, perhaps it was luck. She landed splat against a sheet of fabric. Her insect body shook dangerously and for a minute everything went blurry, but she recovered soon enough. If she stayed in the body oft the bee when it died then she might have a very difficult time getting out; if she got out at all that is.

The fabric was a curtain and Faustina let herself slide down it into a small room. At first there appeared to be nobody around, but then a great black shadow lunged out into the open. Faustina buzzed alarmingly and flew swiftly sideways.

When she looked round again she found a Siberian tiger facing her; he was a little befuzzled and looked like he had taken a blow to the head. Staring hard at it, she realised that she knew the tiger. It was Mr Rakshasas, the kind old djinn who had been absorbed by one of the terracotta army.

There was a moment's pause before both parties recognised each other, but then, in a series of complicated movements and gestures the two had communicated all they knew on the subject of the Gaunt's disappearance.


	14. Chapter 14

**Right then, I really am sorry for the delay. Hopefully I will be able to keep writing this story as we've just had a bought of snow! And that's how this story started so here goes. I hope you all like it.**

**Reunion**

An hour and three unfortunate, undressed and unconscious guards later, Philippa and her rescuers emerged from the dungeons dressed as none other than guards. They looked quite normal and Philippa was glad that the clothes covered her ice band, because she found it hugely embarrassing that she not use her powers.

"Come on," she beckoned to the others as they walked down the passages of the palace without any hope of knowing where they were or where they were going to find John, Nimrod and Groanin.

They were just about to climb the stairs when they heard the sound of footsteps.

"In here," Benjamin pulled the other two into a small archway that hid them well enough as the people passed without looking back. If they did, then they would have to come up with some kind of excuse for being there.

To their surprise, the party that passed were two guards followed by John, Nimrod and Groanin with two more guards bringing up the rear. Their three friends looked rather defeated and Philippa noticed that both Djinn had a silver bracelet around their arms identical to her own. She shivered, they were inhumane. What kind of a coward removes his enemies' powers from them? It was only a sign of weakness to need your enemies unconditionally weaker.

Sonny took charge as the party disappeared around a corner signalling that they should follow them and find out where they were going. Nobody had any objections so they set off.

"Stealth," warned Benjamin because Philippa very nearly tripped over a loose stone.

"Sorry," she mumbled.

"Not to worry," said Benjamin.

They continued, led by Sonny who seemed to know exactly where he was going.

"Stop," said the boy suddenly pushing them back behind a curtain.

Philippa could have sworn her heart stopped for a moment. She knew she was holding her breath, but didn't dare to let it out in case it made a loud noise. They stood silently and after about half a minute, they heard the dutiful footsteps of guards pass them.

"That was only three of them," announced Sonny when they had gone.

"So that means there's still one down there," concluded Philippa. "How do you suppose we do this. We need to make sure we don't get caught."

"Well, why don't we just...go down the stairs until we can see a guard and then I'll knock him out," suggested Sonny.

"Right," agreed Philippa uncertainly.

"Right," said Benjamin after her.

He trusted Sonny with his life. He had left his monastery just because the boy had asked him too and he had come all the way to Russia before accompanying him to this palace. If there was anyone he felt safe with, it was this boy.

They walked steadily down the stone steps around the spiral until Sonny caught sight of the guard and motioned for his team to stop. The other two halted.

Then something Philippa hadn't expected happened.

Sonny raised his hand like he was commanding some kind of magic and whispered a word that she could not hear. All of a sudden the guard was lying on his back in a deep, dreamless sleep.

If Philippa hadn't been sure beforehand of who he was, she was now. This had to be Buck. What with his appearance and his powers. How could she have ever convinced herself otherwise?

She flung her arms around his neck almost making him fall down the stairs, but luckily he was strong enough to withstand the onslaught.

"Er...What are you doing?" he asked slowly.

Philippa went bright red, she had forgotten that he didn't seem to know who he was himself.

"It's was just to say...er...thank you," but she sounded so unconvincing.

"Right," he said.

Philippa let go of him and they continued down the staircase until they came in sight of the cell where John, Nimrod and Groanin were being kept. They all looked very glum and it pained her to see them that way.

"Guys," she said.

All three looked up.

"Philippa!" they exclaimed in unison.

"We'd knew you'd be safe," said John before the rest of the rescuers appeared. "Dybbuk!" he said angrily.

"No, no," said Philippa urgently. "It's Buck," John didn't respond. "The good Buck whom we all thought was dead."

"It can't be," said John his mouth open now.

"I'm not Buck I'm Sonny," insisted the frustrated boy.

"I think we can all catch up later," interrupted Nimrod. "Mind getting us out of here Phil?"

"I can't," she replied rolling up her sleeve to reveal the silver bracelet.

"Oh," he sounded disappointed.

"But I can," said Sonny and he muttered his word again.

The door swung open as if somebody had just kicked it. The three people in the cell stared at him as if he had just confirmed their suspicions. They didn't say anything though as the boy obviously believed he was Sonny.

"What now?" asked John.

"We need to take down Dybbuk," decided Nimrod. "His snowstorms are causing havoc."

"But how?" asked Philippa. "Only one of us has magical powers still."

"I think we can help," came a familiar voice.

All of them turned round to see who it was who had spoken and found themselves faced by a huge Siberian Tiger and a tiny bee.

"Mr Rakshasas!" exclaimed John. "And...and...Faustina?"

"That's right," she replied. "Don't mind if we join do you? Anybody want to share a body?"

She looked purposely at Philippa.

"Alright," Philippa sighed. "If you must."

"Thank you," she smiled and Philippa knew everything that Faustina was thinking as soon as she entered her body.

"Now let's go," said Sonny as the bee flew away, free of it's possessor.


	15. Chapter 15

**Sorry I haven't updated for ages, but these last few months have been hectic. Well here you go anyway, all of you who were patient enough to wait for this. We are so near the end now, I can smell the last chapter. Don't worry though, we're not there just yet. **

**Previously, in case you've forgotten: **_** Sonny and Benjamin turn up to save Philippa and they spring John Nimrod and Groanin from prison. There is a question of whether Sonny is the other Buck and if not then who the hell is he? Also Faustina shares Philippa's body and Mr Rakshasa is a Tiger. And now they're all off to confront Dybbuk even though Sonny is the oly person who can use his powers. **_**Enjoy **

**Twins...and more twins**

"What was the plan again?" asked John as he climbed the steps behind Philippa and Faustina.

Philippa stopped short and John nearly knocked her over. Groanin wasn't so nimble and the three of them tumbled to the floor. It was Philippa's body that unfortunately took the full blow of the fall.

"Ow," came her muffled voice from beneath the pile.

"Sorry Philippa," said Graonin apologetically. "I say, sorry."

"It's okay," she dismissed as John helped her up. "But no, back what you said John."

"What?" he asked, his memory of the last minute or so wiped in his concern for his sister.

"The plan," said Philippa urgently.

"Oh right," remembered John. "What is it again?"

"We don't have one," said Philippa. "Then we need to come up with one," said Philippa's body, but it was really Faustina speaking."

"The way I see it," said Nimrod. "Only three of us will be able to get into the throne room without arousing suspicion. Naturally, Sonny will be needed because of his powers, Philippa, you should go in aswell because both you and Faustina are in your body and hopefully, although your body is not naturally able to conduct djinn energy at the moment, it may be possible that with both you and Faustina in there, you could break the bond."

"We've already tried," said Philippa wearily.

"Ah," said Nimrod with a look of wisdom in his eyes. "Sometimes the path we seek isn't revealed to us until we need it."

"I would say we need it," said John.

"Not immediately," replied Nimrod.

"So who else should go in?" asked John returning to the plan.

"Groanin," replied the tiger.

The others looked at him and the old djinn smiled. He was still Mr Rakshasas, just Mr Rakshasas the tiger.

"He does have an extremely strong arm. His strength will give you an advantage against the humans should a fight break out," he explained.

"So exactly how are we going to do this then?" inquired Groanin. "I say ex..."

"Disguied entrance followed by surprise attack," Faustina cut him off. "That should give us the upper hand. However only two of us should mount the attack, the other should try and get the key off Dybbuk and somehow free us of these ice bands that seem unable to be broken by djinn power. Once we have the key, it's four djinn against one. That'll give us the numbers."

So it was decided, Benjamin handed his suit over to Groanin as he himself would not be going into the lion's den. When everyone was ready, they started towards their destination.

Philippa was feeling the nerves, but then so was everyone else, especially John, he hated being out of the action, letting the fate of his friends hang in the balance when he was entirely powerless, literally.

It seemed like an eternity before the three "guards" slipped into the throne room unnoticed. It had been decided that Philippa and Faustina should go for the key as they were the least powerful, at the moment. Once they had the key, it would be an easy fight. In order not to be near the other two, Philippa and Faustina had walked slowly and inconspicuously to the other side of the room; as close to Dybbuk as possible.

He didn't even notice anything was amiss as he talked quietly into a cell phone. That's when Philippa saw it, the fang. It sat round Dybbuk's neck like the end of the world was coming. Suddenly she knew the fight was about to get an awful lot tougher.

Dybbuk finished his call and turned back to face his guards.

"Has anyone seen the guards who took the three prisoners down to their cells?" he asked although his tone suggested that anyone who didn't know the answer just might know death before the day was up. "I can't risk them getting out," he persisted.

There was still no reply.

"You," ordered Dybbuk pointing straight at Sonny. "Step forward."

Sonny did as he was told.

"Have you had word from the guards I sent down?" inquired Dybbuk.

"Yes," said Sonny calmly.

Then with one fluid motion, he removed his helmet and the entirety of his guard disguise.


	16. Chapter 16

**Another chapter already, I know what you're thinking. Wow that's fast of you Auburn. Well here goes:**

**The Fight**

There's nothing quite like watching two identical twins trying to come to terms with seeing themselves in front of each other. It is a look best described as that of a baby seeing itself in the mirror for the first time. Dybbuk stared into Sonny's eyes and the same eyes stared back at him.

The whole room had frozen at the sight of a second Dybbuk and nobody showed any signs of changing. All except Philippa. This was her opportunity, her chance to get the key. She knew she wouldn't get another one like this. Sonny had timed his revelation to perfection.

Silently Philippa made her way across the floor, like a panther. Nobody noticed her fluid movements, they were still all staring at Sonny.

"You're dead," muttered Dybbuk. "You have to be dead," but even he didn't sound convinced by his words. They were merely an attempt to reconcile himself, but it wasn't working. He was still gawping at his other half; his good half.

Philippa was getting closer now, so close she could hear Dybbuk's heart pounding. Soon she would be able to get the key and free herself.

"No," said Sonny in response to his twin. "I am still very much alive."

"How is that possible?" asked Dybbuk. "How?" he sounded angry.

"Search me," replied Sonny.

Dybukk leapt from his chair as Philippa made a grab for the key. It came loose, but Dybbuk saw her and turned on her. A single bolt of energy flew from his hand and sent her body careering back across the floor where it finally rolled to a stop only a metre from where the key had landed. Philippa did not rise to fight. For a moment Dybbuk was concerned.

Thankfully he had not noticed the key was missing so Philippa decided that the only way to exploit the situation was pretend to be unconscious, and believe me she wanted to be. Her body ached from the fall, her mind felt slow and quiet and spasms ricocheted up her back from the energy. She would need time to recuperate. Then she would get the key.

Dybbuk turned back to his twin when Philippa showed no signs of moving.

"I see you've teamed up with our girlfriend," he said. "How sweet. Maybe you'd like to join her again... on the floor."

With that sparks flew out of Dybbuk's hands only to be deflected by Sonny. The throne lifted itself to come crashing down on Dybbuk, but he emerged strong as ever, the crumbled chair at his feet. Another energy bolt, another deflection, more rocks, more power.

Swords sprung from the wall as if wielded by invisible soldiers to fight off the guards who had come to Dybbuk's aid, attempting to destroy the twin for good.

"You won't beat me this time!" shouted Sonny above the clanging of swords.

"Think again!" Dybbuk replied sending vase after vase at his other half.

One found its mark and sent Sonny spiralling backwards, blood trickling from an open wound in his head, but the boy seemed okay. He regained his balance, but not fast enough as Dybbuk was upon him, slamming his face into the floor.

With his mind in a frenzy and blood in his eyes, all Sonny could think of was how his twin had defeated him before. How with his face squashed to the floor Dybbuk had tried to terminate him. Once again Sonny was on the floor, but this time he was determined not to go.

He wormed his arm free as his head rapped the floor for the fifth time and made a tapestry fly towards Dybbuk, lifting him up in its coils and tying him tight. Sonny only had time to get to his feet when dazed and disorientated he saws Dybbuk break free of his temporary prison.

"Nice try," mocked the evil boy. "But not good enough."

As Dybbuk laughed the chair picked itself up and flew towards Sonny knocking him ten feet into the air. Sonny looked defeated as he fell to the floor beside Philippa. His nose was broken and his body battered. There didn't seem like anyway he could win the fight now. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply.

Dybbuk was laughing harder now, his voice echoing around the throne room like a maniac's.

"You okay?" whispered Philippa as Sonny opened his eyes.

"Yeah," he replied hoarsely.

"We take him together then," said Philippa grimly revealing her wrists, free of manacles.

"No," said Sonny. "We need the others."

"I sent Groanin out with the key a minute ago," she replied. "And Faustina."

"Right on three?" inquired Sonny.

Philippa nodded ever so slightly.

"One..."

"Is that all you've got?" taunted Dybbuk.

"Two..."

"Is that all you've got?" he shouted again.

"Three!"

Both Philippa and Sonny jumped to their feet at the same time ready to face Dybbuk. He smiled at them maliciously; there was evil in his heart.

"Back for more?" he asked mockingly and the swords, now finished with their guards leapt to attention.

But this time it was Dybbuk controlling them.

"How many swords does it take to defeat two djinn?" he asked. There was no answer. "Let's find out shall we."


	17. Chapter 17

**Nearly at the end now, just one or two more chapters. A great big thanks to everyone who's read this story and an even bigger thank you to everyone who reviewed :D You deserve some virtual chocolates .**

**Darkness**

The blade sliced into Philippa's hand before she had time to even move. She screamed out, pain coursing through her veins. Sonny was worried for a moment, but he had his own troubles trying to fight off the swords so they wouldn't hurt them again.

Somehow he gained control of one of them and holding it firmly in his grip began to fight an imaginary opponent. Sonny wielded the sword like a professional, Philippa guessed it had something to do with djinn magic.

A thought struck her, she wished away her injury. It was gone in the blink of an eye. She had no time to admire her handiwork though as Dybbuk had come up with another line of attack. He was unsatisfied by the time it was taking to subdue his enemies.

"Look out," screamed Philipa.

She rammed into Sonny as a pile of bricks flew towards them. They were on the floor again, dust from the shattered stones covering their faces, stinging their eyes and blocking their airways. Philippa coughed involuntarily.

"You okay?" asked Sonny half-blinded. His voice was hoarse and cracked from the dust particles.

"Yeah," replied Philippa. "We need to get up!" she was afraid. "We need to get out of here!"

"Not yet," muttered Sonny. "We need the Fang!"

Wait, how did he know about the fang? She didn't remember telling him anything, but she didn't have time to dwell on it A clanging of metal brought her brutally to her senses. The swords were back again. She gasped, trying to get as much breath into her lungs as possible, the dust was making her queasy.

Sonny was up first, always the hero. He placed himself between her and the onslaught.

"Phil?" called a different voice through the clearing particles. It was John.

"Over here!" she replied.

A moment later reinforcements had arrived. Philippa saw a blur of orange and black fur leap towards Dybbuk. Mr Rakshasas was going in for the kill. Would he kill Dybbuk? Conflicting emotions ran across her face.

"Phil," John's voice interrupted her.

He was yanking her up by the arm with all the concern and worry any human could ever possess. She obliged and clambered to her feet.

"We need to get the fang!" she gasped, the words almost choking her.

"Mr Rakshasas is doing it," replied John.

Suddenly, a great shape flew over their heads and smashed into the wall. The limp body of a tiger fell silently to the floor.

"Mr Rakshasas!" exclaimed Philippa and tried to run to him, but the swords were relentless.

"Dybbuk!" shouted a powerful voice from the other side of the room. It was Nimrod.

"What do you want, old man?" taunted Dybbuk.

The boy was lying on the floor with a sword at his throat. Philippa didn't understand, she hadn't seen the fight. John who was standing next to her didn't seem so surprised. Nimrod had the fang in his hand, Dybbuk was overpowered. Everything had gone according to plan.

"I want you to give up Dybbuk," said their uncle. "This isn't you, this isn't your life," there was feeling in Nimrod's words. "Come home, with us, to your mother. You can live like a teenager again, you don't have to be like this."

"Yes I do," screamed Dybbuk, an insane psychotic look in his eyes. He was hungry for revenge. "You took my father from me."

"Dybbuk," reasoned Nimrod, though there was a little less confidence in his voice. "Come back with us."

Philippa would've. There was an unnerving calmness about Nimrod's voice. Layered with sweet, soft tones and comforting melody, she found it almost impossible to obey and for a moment Dybbuk hesitated. He looked around him, eyes terrified for the first time. It was as if he didn't recognise where he was or what he was doing.

They'd got through to him. Philippa was about to jump with joy when the boy snapped.

"I. Will. Never. Go. With. You!" he said coldly, yet forcefully.

Gone was the innocent boy whose heart still bore hope and in his place was the same evil child she had fought so much that day. His eyes were determined, his heart set on one thing. Ohilippa realised a split second before he made his move.

Dybbuk's arm shot out of nowhere to clasp the fang in his hand. Then he laughed like a maniac, in his hand he held all the power he could ever want and more, the greatest protection he could ever need. With his mere mind, Dybbuk pushed Nimrod back more than ten yards. The older djinn fought to keep his feet on the ground.

Sonny was at Dybbuk's side in a flash.

"Brother," he said quietly. "Don't do this."

Sonny reached out his hand to Dybukk's shoulder. He gasped and convulsed where he stood, but he did't let go. John watched in horror as his friend's limbs jolted this way and that refusing to be controlled, but stiil he held on. What was happening?

Then Dybbuk started to shake as well. At first it was just his hands, but it worked its way up his arms and across his torso until both twins looked as if they had been electrocuted and still it didn't end.

"Unhand me!" screamed Dybbuk, the agony in his voice almost unbearable. "Stop it! I will not..." he gasped. "I refuse! You can't put me away again!" he shouted, every word hurting him.

Everything became clear to John, whatever was happening Buck was in control. A light began to shimmer around the boys. It pulsed almost like a projection of the heart, getting stronger and stronger. The light flooded out of the twins like a bomb.

It was getting too bright to see anything at all. The last Philippa saw before she was blinded was the look of sheer torture on the faces of both boys and though she couldn't see, or hear, or smell or feel. She knew she was crying. Something tugged at her heart as she cried, like a claw.

And then there was nothing at all, just darkness.


	18. Chapter 18

**This is the last chapter *sob*. The story is over. No, don't cry I'm sure there are plenty of other brilliant fics just waiting to be written **

**Have fun reading and reviewing this last chapter and have a great Christmas!**

**Contained**

"Philippa," a voice broke the silence, a hand shook her shoulder.

Where was she? A room, on a cold hard floor. She could feel it pressing against her face, flattening it like a disk. She was lying on her face and it hurt. She tried to roll over, but to no avail. Her limbs didn't seem to want to move or obey her in any sense of the word.

"Philippa," came the voice, it was familiar.

But who was it? If only she could remember. She should open her eyes, see who it was, see where she was, but her eyes would not obey her either. She wanted to groan, but she couldn't.

"Hey," something nudged her arm.

It was a little too sharp for her liking, probably some kind of pole or a foot. Could it be a foot? Yeah, that was definitely what it seemed like.

A hand turned her head and brushed the hair from her face. Her eyes were still shut like a steel vault. Delicate fingers attempted to prise them open. Ever so gently her lids were separated and she began to see the world again.

A face came into view.

It was Buck! Or was it Dybbuk? Or maybe both... She was so confused. What had happened? She could remember everything, but the last few moments had been a combination of shining light and darkness.

She finally managed to open her mouth, she wanted to say something. Anything.

"Hi," she croaked dreamily.

Buck, or Dybbuk relaxed.

"Who are you?" she had to know.

"Buck," he said looking worried. He obviously thought she might be suffering from amnesia.

"Where's Dybbuk?" she saked.

"Contained," replied Buck, he looked up into the distance. "He won't be bothering us for a while."

"Phil?" came John's voice.

She sat up groggily and peered over Buck's shoulder. John was standing there covered in grey dust from the falling stones and blood from his cuts. Never had she felt so relieved to see him. She jumped up. Bad idea. Her head still ached and her limbs were sore.

John came over to her instead and wrapped his arms round her so tightly she could barely breathe, but she didn't care. She wrapped her arms round him too with all the strength she could muster.

"Come on guys," said Nimrod appearing in Philippa's line of vision. "Let's go home."

Mr Rakshasas was gone now, he had completed what he come to do and now he was gone. He had left them with one final proverb:

"A wish is a dish that's a lot like a fish, once it's eaten its harder to throw back" and with that both he and the tiger disappeared into thin air.

There were tears and sobs, but at least this time they'd had the chance to say goodbye.

Now Buck was preparing to leave with his mother as well.

"See you around Phil," he said and kissed her on the cheek, he hugged John and thanked them all for what they'd done for him.

The cat wondered into the hall and accidentally scratched Buck's leg, he froze for a moment and Philippa could've sworn she'd seen something in his eyes. For just a second he had looked murderous.


End file.
